ed only in a ring
of widening circles or a flattening of the dancing waves into a straining
coil, for we had been in the habit of fishing and vraicking here regularly
until Torode took possession. And many was the time I had hung over the
side of the rocking boat and sought in the depths for the tops of the great
rock-pillars which once held up the bridge that joined Brecqhou to Herm
and Jethou. But now the fishing and vraicking were stopped, for Torode
liked visitors as little as did Jean Le Marchant.

And as I went I thought of Carette and how she looked when I spoke about
her to her father. And one minute I thought I had seen in her a brief look
which was not entirely discontent, and the next minute I was in doubt.
Perhaps it was a gleam of anger and annoyance. I could not tell, for the
chief thing I had seen in her face was undoubtedly a vast confusion at the
publicity of my declaration. In my mind also was the contradiction of
Helier Le Marchant's assertion that Torode would take no Island man into
his crew, and his fathers advice to go and try him. I was inclined to think
that Helier would prove right, for, even with my four years' experience of
men and things, I saw that Monsieur Le Marchant was beyond my
understanding.

My boat swirled into the narrow way between Herm and Jethou, where the
water came up lunging and thrusting like great black jelly-fish. I dropped
my sail and took the oars, and stood with my face to the bows and pulled
cautiously among the traps and snares that lay thick on every side and
still more dangerously out of sight. So I crept round the south of Herm and
drew into the little roadstead on the west.

And the first thing I saw, and saw no other for a while, was the handsomest
ship I had ever set eyes on. A long low black schooner, with a narrow
beading of white at deck level, and masts that tapered off into
fishing-rods. She was pierced for six guns a-side, and a great tarpaulin
cover on the forecastle and another astern hinted at something heavier
there. Her lines and finish were so graceful that I felt sure she was
French built, for English builders ever consider strength before beauty. A
very fast boat, I judged, but how she would behave in dirty weather I was
not so sure. Anyway, a craft to make a sailor's heart hungry to see her
loosed and free of the seas. She sat the water like a gull, so lightly that
one half expected a sudden unfolding of wings and a soaring flight into the
blue.